Star Wars: Blacksabre
by Erasin
Summary: The prologue to a Star Wars novel I've been taking a hiatus from. It follows the original character Saleia Moonstryder, codename: Blacksabre. It follows her story following the rise of the Galactic Empire, forced to work for Darth Vader against her will.
1. Chapter 1

Prologue:

Fall of the Jedi

Saleia's breath caught in her throat, causing her head to throb with an impossible headache. Connections she had long felt were suddenly being severed more rapidly than any automatic weapon's rate of fire. In the daunting darkness of the Jedi Temple's ventilation system she crawled along. Faint red light sifted up through the exhaust ports every so many meters, lighting her way.

She didn't know what she was sensing, but it sent waves of paralyzing grief and fear reverberating throughout her body. All she knew for certain was that Ben still lived; that -deepest of all connections- had yet to be severed. Carefully, she edged to the nearest exhaust port; stopping over it and peering timidly over it. All the while a smothering darkness gathered along the edges of her mind.

The staccato of blaster fire reached her ears from the marble floor some ten meters below, and she saw the brown robed bodies of younglings fall to the ground like mere sandbags. She heard orders being shouted, and the tapping of clone troopers' boots running across the floor.

She squint her eyes, feeling them well up with unasked for tears. Saleia shook them away and watched through the grate as padawans scampered across the floor, their lightsabers at the ready. Why wasn't she down there with them, she thought.

Then a brown robed adult entered her field of vision, wielding a blue lightsaber.

"Master Skywalker what is-!" A padawan was silenced by the newcomer. The other padawans tried to engage him in battle, but their combined efforts were no match for him. He felled them with movements so swift it was unlike anything Saleia had ever seen.

The dark side surrounded him like a cloud. Pure unrestrained rage poured from him like poison; a venom rank with the stench of the Sith. She had never encountered a Sith before; but somehow, on the deepest level, she knew he was one of them.

She shifted her weight and tried to breathe, but found that she couldn't. This man was a traitor; to the Jedi as well as the Republic. She wasn't sure how she knew, but she did; she could feel the Force whisper this into her ear as she stifled an angry and terrified sob.

She clenched a fist and shoved it in her mouth; silently pleading, _please don't sense me…_ Like the coward she knew she was. She felt her own anger rise, her blood boiling at the sight of that Sith in a Jedi's robes.

"I know you're up there," Saleia heard him say.

_Shit!_

His blue hued energy blade receded into his lightsaber handle; he continued with contempt, "The Jedi have fallen, child." He turned his face up to her through the grate; his face was shrouded in shadow.

But for his eyes.

His eyes were a sickly, unnatural yellow-orange that glowed with unkempt malice. That was the only feature she could discern; and they burned into her very soul, freezing her blood. She could feel the last strands of her courage wither away and her heart stopped in fear.

His voice, silky smooth yet icy cold, spoke once more. "You would be wise in hiding. I should kill you for your cowardice, girl." He paused for a sickeningly long time before he next spoke. "But for the mere fact of your wisdom in hiding, I will allow you to continue your pitiful existence. Consider it mercy."

Saleia felt her pulse return and quicken. She gnashed her teeth.

He continued icily. "I am Darth Vader. You would do well in remembering this name. If you take up arms against me, I will destroy you." He turned away from her and stalked off, his cloak billowing out around him. The air around Saleia seemed to whisper in desperation, as if there were an undertone of regret in the man's resolve. "You have had fair warning," he said.

Stunned, Saleia slumped where she sat. She watched his figure disappear, and the silence of death ensued. Hot tears began to seep down her face, but her mouth curled into a sinister snarl. "It will be _I _who destroys _you_, Vader." Saleia felt the weight of her words; they sat upon her shoulders like stone and caused her to shudder. "Mark my words, traitor."


	2. Chapter 2

I

Seizure of Destiny

It was like any other day on Cilpar; with the late afternoon sun making its journey across the sky as it always had, and a light breeze gently tickling the viridian hued foliage. The rustling of life could be felt everywhere.

Saleia could feel it, and she relished it.

She stood unmoving beneath a giant oak, standing obscured in its shadow. Her ears tuned in to all around her; the rustling of the leaves, the cawing and tittering of birds, vynocks, and even the slithering of earthworms. It was a peace she seldom experienced, and it was a shame she'd have to be the one to disturb it.

She sighed, leaning against the ancient tree. The breeze mussed her short cropped hair while the sun's light gave it a shine similar to burnished gold.

There it was; the sound she was listening for. A dull, repeated thud, the footsteps of a giant. Among those sounds also came the uproar of wildlife and the splintering of wood in its path. Birds cawed loudly and fled to their treetop sanctuaries. Saleia decided it was time to imitate them.

Sighing deeply, she reached out with her mind and felt the Force surround her, penetrating every particle of her being. She felt the energy of the tree behind her, the grass beneath her, and the wildlife around her well up within her and give her strength. Crouching, she shouldered a worn out leather satchel and then lithely bounded up the tree, landing on the first of a series of limbs. She climbed only a little higher and sat on a fat, sturdy branch. Her lightsaber swung at her waist, hitting her thigh as if reminding her that she had a job to do.

Not that anyone recruited her for the job. She took this upon herself.

_After all_, she grinned to herself, _revenge is a dish best served cold_.

Carefully, slowly, she crawled along the tree branch, all the while listening. Destiny would soon walk beneath her, ready for her to seize it. Impatiently she let out a ragged sigh, and to her annoyance her heartbeat quickened. Now was not the time for second thoughts, now was not the time to turn back. Saleia had spent weeks planning this infallible plan to end all plans.

Legitimately, she had no reason to do what she was going to do. Saleia didn't care; the only reason she needed was that the Jedi had fallen, and that the Republic had morphed into a monstrosity that in gentler terms was called the Galactic Empire.

Her mind went back to three standard years previously. Those eyes, oh those sickly yellow eyes. Saleia cringed; she didn't want to remember that. Not right now.

_What wouldn't I kill to contract flashburn? I'm sick of remembering. _

Vigorously she shook the memory away and distracted herself with her plan for the _nth_ time. She knew it would be perfect. There was no way this could go wrong. Ben had said this wouldn't end well, but Saleia was certain he was wrong this time. It came to her in a dream, vivid with detail. Over the next few weeks, she uncovered all the information she needed. She acquired maps, technical readouts, got herself fitted for a uniform, booked a smuggling ship out to the system, and managed to get her hands on some very expensive, high quality, and quite possibly illegal smuggled goods.

_Gotta love those Corellians_, she grinned a grin that would've made a rancor nervously twitch.

The thudding grew louder. Saleia craned her neck in searching for what she knew would come. And then it entered her field of vision.

An Imperial walker, class AT-KT, originally used by Republic forces on Kashyyk -back when there _was_ a republic- plodded along. Her eyes widened, it was much bigger in real life. All the same her grin widened. A look that would've landed her in a padded cell on the Kessel Asteroid crossed her face.

A part of her mind acknowledged that the transport had splotches of rust on its 'feet', just like in her dream. Lichen had managed to spawn farther up the legs; apparently the Empire didn't take good care of its artillery. Saleia also noted that it walked alone; she half expected more to follow. It may have strayed from a convoy; perhaps it was on patrol duty. _Not like anything here needs patrolling,_ she chuckled. _Except me._

She slithered further along the branch, waiting until the walker was almost directly beneath her. Then, inhaling, she leapt from it and landed squarely on the walker's head. Years of balance training with Ben finally paid off.

Muffled voices spoke from within. "What the hell was that?" said a rough tenor.

"Probably another damned vynock," said another. "Get out and kill it will you?"

"With pleasure," the first replied.

The hatch slowly turned. Saleia crouched and unclipped her lightsaber from her belt, holding it in her right hand while the other supported her weight on the walker. Her heart stopped as the hatch clicked open and a gray capped head popped out, blaster at the ready. "What the-?" was all he manage to say before a black – more accurately dark violet – energy blade was called into existence and became acquainted with his neck. The man's head flew off and knocked against a tree before dropping to the ground; his body flopped back into the walker's cockpit.

Immediately, all movement ceased and the other's head poked out. She saw surprise, and more predominately, utter fear in the man's eyes while she kicked his nose up into his skull, thus instantly killing him. His blood spewed out his nose and his eyes rolled back in his head; his body slumping against the edge of the hatch entrance. Saleia pushed it back into the cock pit and followed behind it.

Her lightsaber closed down with an all too familiar _shzzp_. Saleia returned it to its clip at her belt. Disgustedly she surveyed her handiwork, feeling as of yet no tinge of regret. _Imperial swine deserve less than this. _

She lifted the headless body and slung it up through the hatch. She pushed it over the edge of the walker's head, sliding it off. It hit the ground with a sickening crunch. Saleia then searched the pockets of the other, found his ID, took it, then repeated the process of disposing his corpse. It made the same sound as it hit the ground. Rubbing her hands together, she sat in the pilot's seat.

"Poor bastards," she said despite herself.

She glanced over the control panel and found the ignition switch; the engines roared to life when she touched it. Her grin returned; the fire in her eyes rekindled. _I'm really going through with this._ She took control of the walker, operating it as if she had been for years. She craned her neck in looking out the view port, decided she was too short, stopped the walker, and adjusted her seat.

Once situated, she continued. It was easy, controlling the transport. Normally, there would be two in the cock pit, one to pilot the walker and the other to operate the weapons systems. Saleia knew she wouldn't need a gunner; no battle would ensue here.

Her mind wandered back to her plan. It could only be described as sheer brilliance. She knew that only an idiot would attempt to do what she was single-handedly doing. This in itself would send the Empire into back flips. It would get the message across that resistance thrived all across the galaxy, it would revitalize the idea of freedom and democracy in their government, and once again give cause to all beings, regardless of species, to fight for what they believed in.

_Ben will be proud,_ she beamed. _And I'll have proved him wrong to boot. _Her hubris was justified; she knew that she would outsmart the Empire. Saleia did not doubt that she'd also make him pay. The owner of those sickly, yellow eyes.

They still burned into her soul. It was her intent that she would close them forever. The memory of that turncoat's blue lightsaber killing younglings, _mere children_, flashed through her mind. The oath she swore three years ago still bore upon her. She would not be granted peace until that oath was fulfilled.

She muttered a curse under her breath. _I'll destroy him and that usurper Palpatine._

Onward she moved, lumbering about like any Imperial slave would. It was hilarious, in her mind, how the Empire thought they were all powerful. They thought they could just take over a planet and expect no resistance. Sure, Cilpar was sparsely populated, fairly remote, and easy to take; but they sure as hell weren't welcome there.

It was expected that no one would try to fight them off, so nobody really bothered trying to protect Imperial outposts. Her presence there was enough proof of that; _and_ she had gotten minimal help from Cilpari resistance at that.

_If the Imperials had any brains among them, they would have destroyed all hiding places. _

This forest was prime real estate for hiding. Case and point.

Smugness brushed over her; it felt so good. A demented smile crept across her lips. She shook her head and returned her focus to what she was doing. As she peered out the view port in front of her something caught her eye.

A red light beside the speaker on the comm unit flashed. She flipped the switch beside it.

A flurry of white noise garbled from the speaker, utterly unintelligible. After a moment the noise seemed to form coherent words and eventually made sense. "…Repeat, unit A213516-C, this is your commander speaking. What happened in there?"

_Wonderful…_she rolled her eyes and sighed. _Why didn't I think about this?_

She inhaled and said in the manliest voice she could manage, "A vynock sir. Been fighting them off all day."

She heard a chuckle in reply. "I know, little fuckers just don't die do they?" A pause, "Where are you?"

Her eyes flicked over the green hued nav-screen at the control panel's center. "10 degrees south, 15 degrees west of home base sir."

The garbled voice continued, "Well, hurry back. We are due for inspection in an hour. All heads will be accounted for." She heard a click, and then the other end went dead. Saleia flicked the switch back and turned the console off. She sighed heavily and sat back in her seat. "Perfect," she said aloud.

She glanced at her satchel sitting in the chair beside her, she needed to hurry up. Returning to the controls, she continued the journey to her destination. It was only a matter of time until she got there. Despite that, she quickly grew impatient, bored. Saleia was ready for this; she was ready to seize what she knew to be her destiny and once again make the galaxy right. She would help to rectify all that went askew in the Senate, she would help destroy Palpatine and his pet; but most importantly, she'd reinstate the Jedi. If only she could revive all who had fallen…

Somewhere in the recesses of her memory, a wizened green little alien was waggling an equally withered cane at her. _Seek not revenge, a path to darkness that is. _

Sighing, she shut her eyes. Saleia heard that lecture thousands of times; a Jedi should not allow him or herself to feel hatred. Hatred corrupted souls and poisoned minds. Saleia knew that all too well; she spent hour after hour in the Jedi archives during her padawan years looking into Jedi lore. She read all the major tales about Jedi who had strayed from their path, giving into hatred and allowing it to ravage their morality.

She read all about the Sith; admittedly, she was fascinated by their methodology. She fixated on the abilities they dared to explore and utilize. She never tried any of it for herself for fear of upsetting Ben.

Ben had been extremely bitter about many things since the fall, and she felt one of those things had something to do with the traitor with those sickly yellow eyes. She let it alone for her master's sake, and never dared to explore the ways of the Sith. The last thing she wanted was Ben's bitterness aimed towards her.

Onward she progressed, determined not to let her mind wander too far. This train of thought on the Dark Side led to tiresome brooding. She hated brooding, it never did anything productive. Same with waiting, few things she despised more than waiting; betrayal was the only thing she could think of.

She felt her blood boil. Saleia removed her hands from the controls and reluctantly brooded. Hatred seethed through her veins. Once again Yoda's favorite monologue played itself through her mind. _"Fear leads to aggression, aggression to hate, hate to the Dark Side."_

Somehow she managed to skip the first two. Impatiently she sighed. Her hands returned to the controls, glancing at the nav-screen she saw that she was very nearly there. Her destination was indicated by a steady green dot, while her position blinked away just five degrees south of it.

Out of nowhere a feeling of unease settled on her. As she edged closer it grew. It grew like a shadow of doubt, which she was also beginning to feel. An indescribable fear crawled into the cock pit of the walker and sat down beside her, as if it were the ghost of one of her victims waving its arms erratically in an attempt at haunting her.

None of this bothered her nearly as much as the fact that she just couldn't put her finger on what was bothering her.

Saleia considered abandoning her mission.

Like hell she would.

She grit her teeth and carried on, it was far too late to turn back now. And she was not about to waste her hundred thousand credit purchase of quite possibly illegal smuggled goods by turning back. She bought those quite possibly illegal smuggled goods for this very purpose. Glancing at her bag she patted it almost lovingly. Her grin returned; it would've stopped an angry gundark in its tracks.

But then it dawned on her. It was _his _presence that she sensed.

She hadn't counted on this.

Her smirk stretched from ear to ear. _Oh, this is just too good to be true. _Not only would she prove a point with this endeavor, but she'd also fulfill her oath made three years prior. _Vader is here._

She pushed onward now, new purpose coursing in her veins. She worked the walker to its limit, simultaneously working up her mental defenses. After what seemed like eons, she could see the black outline of the Cilpari Imperial Outpost through the thinning forestry. The red light on the control panel flashed again. Somebody was trying to contact her.

Saleia flipped the switch, "What are you doing just standing there? Get to the bunker and fall into formation." A pause followed, then more garbled noise. "Vader will be here in half an hour." The connection went dead.

_Just as I suspected._ Turning off the comm unit, she moved the final few meters and broke from the line of trees. She saw the outpost for what it was.

It was a bunker, in every sense of the word. Low lying, black, with heavy blast doors and surrounded by electrically charged fences. Maybe Cilpari resistance put up more of a fight than she had originally thought.

A gravel path led around to the back of the structure, she followed it and soon arrived in a paved artillery yard. Walkers like hers stood beside an elevated catwalk, while an assortment of small star craft stood farther in. Saleia moved to an empty space beside the catwalk and powered down the transport. The engines died slowly and eventually all noise ceased.

She sighed deeply. It was now or never.

Grabbing the satchel she opened it. A shinning sphere-shaped object fell out of it and landed on the floor with a heavy thud. Quickly she picked it up and put it back in the bag while also taking out a bundle of gray fabric.

When unfolded it appeared to be a woman's imperial uniform, complete with Lieutenant's insignia and the gray cap. Saleia stood and removed her own black tank top, primly folding it and setting it down on the chair. Next she removed her black bantha leather boots and stepped out of her leggings.

The woolen uniform fit her like a glove. She put her boots back on and hid everything that would've given her away in her satchel; her belt, WESTAR-34 blaster pistol, lightsaber, gloves, and her wristband.

Her hair was sticking to her face in the humidity; such a thing was unheard of in the deserts of Tatooine. Like a wet bantha she shook her head, then smoothed it back. She went back into the satchel and search for her leggings. Finding them, she grabbed a hair tie from their pockets and bound her short hair into a low ponytail. She then eased the cap over her forehead. Her head felt very warm immediately.

Once she had brushed the lint off the uniform, Saleia decided she looked imperial enough to get through the blast doors. She opened the hatch, slung her satchel over her shoulder, and with all the swagger of a pimp on Coruscant climbed out of the walker.

She slid down the side of the metal transport and bounced contentedly onto the catwalk, spring in her step. She made for the steps to descend to ground level, but then, realizing something, paused and turned back. On impulse her hand slid into her satchel and clasped a round metal object. She pulled it out, twisted it once, then threw it carelessly back into the walker, then shut the hatch after it.

_Let's hope this blows over._ She grinned at her pun.

Without further ado she descended the steps and made for the bunker. Embedded in the wall beside the entrance was an ID scanner. She waved the pilfered ID from the man whose nose she kicked in in front of it. An electronic beep chimed, then there was the whirring of locks. Air hissed as the blast doors abruptly opened.

Nonchalantly, she glanced at the piece of plastic. Apparently, that poor bastard's name was Phero Chrissen. Poor guy...

She put the ID back in her pocket and proceeded with her deed. She had spent many nights up to her departure memorizing the technical readouts procured by the Cilpari resistance. Why they waited for her to show up before actually doing something about Imperial presence was beyond her. She began scanning the leaking walls for vents. She recalled that there were twelve major shafts in the building.

She had more than enough.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw the first one. The grate was screwed into the wall at the two lower corners, and attached to the wall by hinges at the upper. Her hand went searching for her lightsaber. Finding it, she set it at its lowest radiation setting and switched it on. She held the base of the energy blade lengthwise against the lower left screw, and in moments it began to melt. She did the same with the other. She closed down her blackish energy blade and then opened the grating, pivoting it on its hinges.

Holding it with one hand, she grabbed one of the spheres, twisted it, and then placed it into the opening. She closed the grate.

She laughed to herself, _this is just _too_ easy. _

Saleia wanted to admire her handiwork, but time was of the essence. She walked along the corridor, its meager lighting leaving it in bleak semi darkness. This outpost was _definitely_ underfunded.

At a turn in the hallway she saw the next vent. She repeated the process of opening it and placing the sphere inside it. Systematically she did this at every one she saw, never once seeing another imperial. This worked out perfectly for her. Almost too perfect...

Saleia shrugged. She was feeling too good about herself to think anything could possibly go wrong. As she pranced through the corridors she thought about how Ben would receive her when she returned to his little mud-brick house well outside the boundaries of Mos Espa; near the very brink of Tusken territory. He'd smile like he always did, and his blue eyes would glow like they did before the Purge. Her master was the best thing that ever happened to her, and she knew that this time, she'd overshadow his _usual_ padawan.

She came to another vent and absently repeated the process. All the while her mind played and replayed memories from her Jedi days; her mind fixating on Ben Kenobi's usual padawan.

Throughout the Order, she had garnered a reputation and was simply known as Kenobi's _other_ padawan.

It was some five standard years ago now; when she stood in the Turret Room of the Temple. The Masters had all gathered and were assessing her skills, promoting her to padawan-hood. Tension was rising within the Senate then, even at the tender age of fourteen she sensed that dark things would ensue, incredibly dark. It seemed that the mounting tension had tied up the Order, for there were no Masters available to take her under his or her wing.

Some of the Masters said she should just be put into the Agricultural Revival Corps, where her force capabilities would be squandered upon dying farmland. Others said that she was indispensable to the Order at the time, that they had never seen a child so young with such mental prowess. Not that she knew what so special about her, apparently she was just a damn good mind reader. Good enough even to breach Yoda's mind and access his thoughts, granted it took more effort than most.

As the debating ensued, she felt her fear overcome her. Not becoming a Jedi to her would have been the end of the world. It was Ben's clear, soothing voice that spoke above the din, _I'll take her_, he said.

This caused a great uproar among the squabbling masters, with only Masters Windu and Yoda remaining serene. Windu had scrutinized her with well-trained eyes, as if sizing her up.

Ben had risen from his seat and said that in that present time, his current padawan was ready for promotion to Jedi Knight. He was on Naboo guarding some senator or another, and that he would be more than happy to take Saleia in. When he spoke, he looked at her with fatherly affection, winking at her kindly. He projected to her in a thought; _don't worry, I've got this. _

There was a crash somewhere that startled Saleia out of her reverie. _Shit! _

She was still standing at an open vent with a ball in her hand. Hastily she shoved it into the shaft and let the grating fall shut with a slam. _Damn it!_ She froze; clenching her lightsaber should someone round the corner. Carefully she edged to a jointure in the corridor, recounting all of the balls she had placed.

She had one final vent; and that was in the ceiling.

When she reached the intersection, she poked her head out into the new hallway, looking first one way then the other. Nobody was to be seen. Cautiously she relaxed and turned to her left, heading towards the bunker's control center. She neared the large room, still not seeing a soul. Everyone must've fallen into formation for receiving Vader outside the bunker.

The entry way gaped before her, and she heard a man's laughter come from inside. Hastily she sidestepped to an outcrop of wall and peeped over the threshold. There she saw the backs of two imperial officers leaning over a blue tinged holo-transmission on a console facing the bunker's open door. Her grin was of the savage kind. One that would've worried Jabba the Hutt; let alone scare even the toughest pod racers shitless.

_How sweet, they had a greeting party waiting for me,_ she switched her blaster to stun and shot. Her targets fell to the ground like boned fish. _I guess they didn't know I'd come in through the back door. Shame. _

She walked casually into the control brigde and saw the vent in the center of the room, over a massive circular shaped console. She groaned as she climbed onto the strangely decorated table and walked to the vent shaft. Saleia looked up at the grate a good meter above her head.

_It's times like these when I realize I'm short_.

Saleia had no time for dallying. Using her blaster she shot the screws that held the vent in place. The grate swung down with a metallic screech. Next, using the Force she levitated a sphere that was larger than the others up into the shaft. Holding it there with one hand, she flicked her eyes at the grating. Precariously it swung back to its place.

Releasing the ball from its force hold, she activated her lightsaber and melted the edge of the grate into the ceiling. _Somebody's bound to notice that…_

As she turned away, something peculiar about the table caught her eye, stopping her in her tracks. Interest piqued, she looked down.

She was standing on a giant blueprint. Her eyes widened.

Saleia couldn't help herself now; she had to know what it was she was standing on. She searched the circular table -which almost seemed to be made for the very purpose of showcasing this blueprint- and gleaned this much.

**Project Name: Death Star**

**Project Type: Galactic Weapon**

**Project Commissioner: His Imperial Majesty the Emperor Palpatine**

**Project Location: Despayre System**

**Project Status: In Progress**

Mouth agape, her eyes widened further.

_I really don't like the sound of that. _Saleia felt the warmth in her blood drain away completely. _I don't like it at all. _She jumped off the table and scurried for the gaping doors, thought better of it, and turned back to her stunned victims. She pulled a ball out of her bag and gingerly placed it in one of the imperials' hands. For good measure, she rolled another under the blueprint table. _Let's hope this is the only copy dear old Palpy has. _

She still had some of the shinning balls in her bag, although her supply was now greatly depleted. Now she just had to lay low and wait.

That was always her least favorite part. Wasn't patience supposed to be in a Jedi's repertoire? She thought about falling into formation outside the open doors; but wouldn't people notice her? What if a higher up asked for ID? She looked nothing like that Phero Chrissen…

Something was happening outside, she could feel it. As quietly and swiftly as she could, she crept to the door, concealing herself behind the entry threshold. She poked her head out from behind it and saw a sea of light gray uniforms, some green, and seldom red ones. All backs were turned to her, still as statues. She didn't dare join them; her bag would've been too conspicuous.

So there she stood, rooted to place and watching. Nothing happened while she stood there, and rapidly she grew very bored. Quietly she receded back into the cool dark of the bunker, where something else caught her eye.

Off to her right, two meters away, stood a ladder. It led to a hatch in the roof. She walked to it and climbed up before she realized what she was doing. When she rose to the hatch she twisted it open and scrambled into the sunlight. Not one other soul stood on the roof.

_Perfect._ Her savage smile returned; this was getting too easy.

Slowly, she eased the hatch back over the opening, trying not to make a noise. Then, she crawled to the meter high barrier at the edge of the roof and peered through a gap in the metal work.

Her eyes gleamed. _I have a vantage point. _

She turned away and slumped, removing the hot woolen cap from her sweaty mane. Every so often she would peep through the gap, not wanting to risk peering over the barrier for fear of being seen.

It seemed an hour had passed with her sitting there before she heard the hum of an interstellar vehicle flying overhead. As she backed away from the metal work, she saw a white imperial shuttle, _Lambda _class, descend at a cruising speed toward the waiting menagerie. The graceful 'Y' shaped vehicle flew over a landing pad set up for the occasion, and stopped ten meters above it.

The wings of the craft folded upward at a perpendicular angle as it descended the final length, taking on the shape of a 'W' in a ballet of machinery. Finally, after an endless stretch of five seconds, the white ship touched down with the rear facing the bunker. A loading ramp fell to the ground and two red clad Imperial guards carrying vicious electrical spears walked ceremoniously out.

Then following them at a thudding pace was blackest night.

Saleia shuddered at the sight of him. Not a shudder of fear; a shudder of sheer unadulterated rage. From her vantage point atop the roof of the imperial bunker she stared into the face of death.

She seethed. _Vader!_ She glared at him as he walked through the split regiment of Imperial troops. Nearby soldiers subtly shook at the sight of him, Saleia could sense their fear of this man-machine. All she felt was hatred of the purest kind.

It took all she had not to leap off the roof and run him through with her lightsaber, saying something horribly cliché while she did so in front of these Imperial swine. But as she watched Vader, she began to notice that something was off about him.

The aura that surrounded the man wasn't nearly as dark as that of three years ago. Saleia could nearly smell fear in the man's resolve.

Something was _definitely _off.

Then she shrugged. The guy probably had a nervous breakdown what with his responsibilities in terrorizing the entire galaxy; not like she cared.

Vader disappeared from her field of vision, and slowly the troops fell out and filed into the bunker after him. Once the last gray-suit had entered, and she heard the doors shut behind him, she grabbed the last balls from her bag and threw them in random places on the roof.

Gathering all her Force energy to her, she leaped from the roof and hit the ground running as she reached into her bag.

A paralyzing pain suddenly rose up the back of her right leg, forcing her to fall to the ground with the detonation remote flying from her hands. Saleia turned her head and saw white gleaming figures shout orders to each other as they ran towards her. She scrabbled for the remote and pounded her fist on the button.

A five second delay.

Blinding light, searing heat, and deafening cacophony unleashed itself as the thermal detonators within their vents exploded; causing all Hell to break loose. She managed to sit up and crawl away, until a stabbing pain in her neck turned her around. Immediately the fringes of her vision blurred while the last thing she saw before darkness took her was a gray suit and a syringe.

_Shit…_


End file.
